𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗧𝗬 ; prichael fanfiction

1

Indigo waves crash with force against the sides of an orange raft moving northward somewhere in the Strait of Florida. The never-ending sky millions of miles away from the surface of the water, with a roll of thunder shakes the Earth and quickens the pace of the hearts of many on the raft. Yet, the steady thumping of one of those hearts remains the same. Some people hold their loved ones tighter, yet his ears do not cease to feel the cotton twill pressed against them by his knees.

His eyes have been shut since he found a spot on the raft at the far back. The scent of the sea makes his stomach twist, and the chatter of those on the boat annoy him. Behind his eyes lie a portrait of his mother. Cognac colored skin, highlighted by the soft contours and highlights that highlight and contour her skin perfectly. Soft mocha lines reside beneath her cheekbones, sharp and defined, while in the sunlight her forehead is shaded golden against the harsh rays which her skin softens. Almond, eyes the color of fresh pine sit below thin, curved black brows, which furrow when she laughs, exposing a beautiful smile, complete with a gap between her two front teeth. Though, sometimes she chuckles with her mouth closed, two full, often mauve colored lips pursed containing a fit of laughter.

That image of her kept him sane on that boat, her soft, yet stern voice circling his headspace, whispering words of encouragement. In his 24 years of life, Prince had never been outside of the boundary lines that contained the Republic of Cuba from the rest of the world. With a US passport tucked away in a red duffle bag just beside him and a way out, he now had access to the entire world— Access to cultures different from his, exposure to life beyond the island. It was all he had yearned for his entire life, yet intimidation set in at the thought of seeing his estranged father for the first time in 14 years.

Cash Nelson was a rancher in northern Texas, and a father to twenty-four year old Prince Nelson. He had met him one time that he could recall. The rancher had made a visit to Cuba, where he and Prince had nothing more than a five minute conversation. A conversation so irrelevant that over the years, the subject matter of said conversation faded, but never the face from which those words came. Blond-haired, and blue-eyed, his father exuded a moviestar aura. He sometimes wondered if he was famous back in America. He believed so, and there was no one to tell him otherwise. It was easy to sculpt the life of someone that was never around. He called sometimes, but those were the only interactions they shared. And now, he was sitting on a boat, risking so much just on his mother's hope that he would take him in.

He owed him nothing, considering he was over the age of 18, and he sent money for him all the time, but he just needed a chance. He needed something to do because things at home weren't working, and starting a life by himself was the last option he wanted to take. The journey to Florida took nearly 4 days, but Prince was well-prepared, his mother making sure that he would have enough food and water for a week if he had rationed everything properly, but that wasn't the reality for most of the others on the boat. If he wasn't starving, he would give a half of his sandwich to a thirteen year old girl, who had told him that she had been sent to the US by her mother to an uncle she had never met before. It was strange the things mothers did for their children all in the name of assuring that they'd have the best shot at life.

There were 15 people on a boat meant for five people. A boat which often threatened to capsize because of the overcapacity. It was terrifying, but there was no other way for him to get to his destination of Amarillo, Texas— To a new life.

An eternity seemed to pass before the boat docked on the very edge of Florida. He would never forget the first touch of his feet to American soil. He didn't know where they were, but he knew that he had escaped the life he was destined for at home. The relief felt by the group at large was unparalleled by any sense of emotion they had ever felt in their lives, but there was no time to celebrate. The smuggler, whom they had all known as Raf, led them to Everglades city, which was about an hour's walk away. There, they would part ways, getting on buses to their destinations.